


Failure to Catch on (and Other Tests of Patience)

by Potrix



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Affectionate Insults, Bottom Bucky Barnes, Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Developing Relationship, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, Idiots in Love, M/M, Miscommunication, Misunderstandings, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Not Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie) Compliant, Not Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Compliant, Oblivious Rhodey, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Protective Tony Stark, Rhodey Feels, Rhodeyfest, Top Rhodey, emotions are hard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-15
Updated: 2016-07-15
Packaged: 2018-07-24 05:58:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7496559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Potrix/pseuds/Potrix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rhodey doesn’t expect anything to come out of his, frankly, absolutely spectacular night with Bucky. He’s no stranger to the concept of one-night stands, has—due to his demanding career—prefered casual relationships with no strings attached himself for most of his adult life, so he’s admittedly surprised when Bucky texts him a couple of days after their encounter. Surprised, but not averse to an eventual repeat performance. </p>
<p>Or; five times Rhodey is completely oblivious to how serious Bucky is about them, and the one time the second most emotionally stunted person in Avengers Tower talks some sense into him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Failure to Catch on (and Other Tests of Patience)

**Author's Note:**

> For [cazdraws](http://cazdraws.tumblr.com/). I went with Rhodey/Bucky because I'm a total sucker for rare pairs. Happy Rhodeyfest!
> 
> Technically a sequel to [Never Meet Your Heroes (but Make Sure to Get Their Number If You Do)](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5124419), but can be read as a standalone story. All you need to know is that Bucky is Rhodey’s childhood crush, Tony managed to set them up, Rhodey just assumed their night together was a one time deal, but Bucky has other ideas. Which is where we are now. 
> 
> Enjoy!

**1**

Rhodey doesn’t expect anything to come out of his, frankly, absolutely spectacular night with Bucky. He’s no stranger to the concept of one-night stands, has—due to his demanding career—prefered casual relationships with no strings attached himself for most of his adult life, so he’s admittedly surprised when Bucky texts him a couple of days after their encounter. Surprised, but not averse to an eventual repeat performance. 

Having mostly retired from active duty when he’d officially joined the Avengers roster means that Rhodey has, for the first time in years, access to his phone almost 24/7, even if he’s still out of the country more often than not. Which makes keeping in contact with Bucky fairly easy, and Bucky isn’t shy to take advantage of that; he messages at least once every three or four days to check in, ask how Rhodey’s doing, or tell Rhodey about some shit Tony’s gotten himself into, and they even manage a phone call every other week. 

And the selfies, well. Rhodey’s certainly thankful for his phone’s Stark level security. DADT might have been repealed, but he still doesn’t need his superiors to accidentally see the somewhat alarming amount of dick pics he has accumulated ever since exchanging numbers with Bucky, thank you very much. 

But when, two and a half months later, Rhodey’s on his way back home to New York, he suddenly finds himself nervous, unsure what flirting over texts, and the occasional hour of phone sex might translate into when he meets Bucky again face to face. He’s too exhausted to worry about it for long, though, collapsing into bed the moment he gets home without so much as a shower, or a bite to eat. The first thing on his agenda the next day is a visit to his mom, which turns into an overnight stay when his grandma shows up, and demands some time with her favourite—and only—grandchild, and then he has to debrief the day after that, so it takes him almost half a week before he makes it to the Tower. 

He arrives shortly after nine, and is directed up to the communal kitchen, where he finds the Avengers and company in varying states of alertness. Steve, clearly just coming back from a run, greets him with a friendly clap on the shoulder, while Tony just leans back in his chair expectantly, and waits for Rhodey to come to him for a hug. Sam hands him a plate of pancakes, Bruce follows suit with a cup of coffee, and Natasha gives him a nod, then elbows Clint in the side, making him startle awake with a snort. 

Bucky pulls out the empty barstool next to himself in invitation, smiling, and murmuring a quiet, “Hi,” when Rhodey slides onto it. He sways closer, so Rhodey bumps their shoulders together before he starts digging into his breakfast. 

It’s when he reaches across the bar for the milk that Rhodey catches sight of the confused frown on Bucky’s face, but it gets wiped away the moment Bucky realises Rhodey’s watching him, replaced with another, tentative smile. Rhodey smiles back, and then laughs, protesting half-heartedly when Bucky, grinning mischievously, steals a sip of his coffee. 

 

**2**

“C’mon,” Bucky whines against Rhodey’s lips, impatient and needy. His hands are on Rhodey’s shoulders, and while Rhodey’s busy lightly scratching his nails up and down Bucky’s back, Bucky uses his hold on Rhodey as leverage, hops up, and easily wraps his legs around Rhodey’s waist. “Please, c’mon. You were gone for ages.” 

Rhodey huffs out a breathless _oomph_ , staggering a little. “You do realise you’re 250 pounds of solid muscle, right?” he asks as he moves towards the bed, dropping Bucky down onto the mattress before crawling over him, and pinning him down. “And it’s only been three weeks this time.” 

Bucky pouts, bottom lip pushed out, and eyes wide. “Too long.”

“What,” Rhodey teases, nosing at Bucky’s chin, “there’s no one here to keep you company when I’m not around?” 

Bucky freezes at that, pulling back a little, expression wary. “I don’t wanna sleep with anyone else,” he says after a moment, fingers twitching against Rhodey’s sides. “Do you wanna sleep with other people?” 

Rhodey props himself up on his elbows, hands cradling Bucky’s face, and thumbs brushing over Bucky’s cheeks. He hasn’t considered the question before, one way or another. His work is demanding, he is long past his clubbing phase, and most of his leisure time is spent at Avengers Tower, which doesn’t exactly leave him with all that many opportunities to meet potential partners. And Rhodey’s satisfied with Bucky, with what they have, content even, so he leans back in for another kiss, and says, honest, “No. Your ass is all the ass I need.”

Bucky laughs into their kiss, and gives Rhodey’s bottom lip a teasing nip. “Good.” He bucks his hips up, and waggles his eyebrows at Rhodey. “Now get your gorgeous cock inside me, Rhodes.”

Rhodey snorts, and rolls his eyes, but is more than happy to oblige. He opens Bucky up slowly, careful to avoid Bucky’s prostate as he pumps his fingers in and out of Bucky, and sucks bruises into the delicate skin of Bucky’s thighs, hips, and belly, purposefully ignoring Bucky’s straining erection. By the time he deems Bucky ready, and rolls on a condom, Bucky’s a shivering mess, eyes glassy, and lips red and swollen where he’s been biting at them, his body pliant, allowing Rhodey to push inside in one smooth glide. 

They immediately start a fast, hard rhythm. Rhodey grabs Bucky’s wrists in one hand, holding them tightly, which makes Bucky breathe out an appreciative moan, and dig the heels of his feet into Rhodey’s ass. With his free hand, Rhodey goes to reach for Bucky’s cock, but Bucky shakes his head, so Rhodey changes direction, and smooths some of the sweaty hair away from Bucky’s forehead. 

“Wanna come from this,” Bucky pants, open-mouthed, head thrown back. “Just from your cock. Please, please, just this. ‘S enough, c’mon, fuck me, c’mon.” 

Rhodey groans in reply, and picks up the pace, mouthing along Bucky’s neck, up to his jaw. “Go on,” he encourages, kissing Bucky’s slack lips. “You’re doing great, go on, be good for me.”

That’s enough to push Bucky over the edge, and clench around Rhodey’s cock with a hoarse cry. Rhodey curses, hooks his left arm under Bucky’s leg to fold it up, sinking another half inch deeper. Bucky is making tiny, breathless noises in the back of his throat, fingers curling around Rhodey’s hand where it’s still gripping Bucky’s wrists, and Rhodey thrusts two, three more times before he’s coming, too. 

Chest heaving, Rhodey pulls out—pecking Bucky’s cheek in apology when the movement makes Bucky wince—then flops down on the bed next to Bucky. Condom discarded, he holds up his arm for Bucky to snuggle under, waits for Bucky to get comfortable tucked under his chin, and then tugs the blankets up over the both of them, letting his eyes flutter shut. 

He’s just about to drop off when Bucky stirs again, mumbling a quiet, “Hey,” into the crook of his neck.

“Hm?” Rhodey hums, running a lazy hand through Bucky’s hair. 

“‘M glad you’re back.”

Rhodey smiles, and kisses the top of Bucky’s head. “It’s good to be back.” 

 

**3**

“I’m fine,” Rhodey insists, but his voice comes out raspy, a little bit slurred. Bucky raises a sardonic eyebrow back at him, looking entirely unconvinced, so Rhodey crosses his arms over his chest, glares, and mutters, “Shut up.” 

Bucky doesn’t seem overly bothered by Rhodey’s sour mood, though, and continues to straighten up around the room, picking up clothes and used dishes. Rhodey pulls a face, and reaches out from his propped up position on the bed to snatch Bucky’s sleeve the next time Bucky walks by close enough. “Hey, come on. You don’t have to do that.” 

“Kinda do,” Bucky says, all feigned seriousness, and holds up a stack of dirty bowls. “Unless you wanna eat your soup straight outta the pot. And, honestly, I haven’t been slavin’ away at the stove for the last hour only to give up now.” 

Surprised, Rhodey just blinks up at Bucky for a long moment. Then, “You’re cooking for me?” 

Bucky’s expression softens at that. He puts the bowls down on the nightstand, and crouches down next to the bed so he can cup Rhodey’s face in his hands. “Babe, you’ve got the flu,” he says, rolling his eyes, and pressing a finger to Rhodey’s lips when Rhodey goes to protest again. “You do. So, yeah. ‘Course I’m takin’ care of you, you dumbass.” 

“You sure?” Rhodey asks, turning his head enough to brush a kiss over the palm of Bucky’s flesh and blood hand. “Everyone else is going out for drinks tonight.”

“They’ll survive an evening without us.” Bucky smiles, and shrugs easily. He gets up again, and presses the back of his hand against Rhodey’s forehead. “You’re burnin’ up,” he says with a sympathetic hiss. “I’ll get you some ibuprofen, too.” 

With that, and another gentle smile, Bucky picks the dishes back up, and walks out of the bedroom, leaving Rhodey to stare after him in quiet amazement. No one—apart from his mom and grandma when he was little—has ever done anything like this for him. Tony had tried, back during their MIT years, but Tony tends to go overboard when he’s worried, and Rhodey knows he gets snippy when he’s not feeling well, so that hadn’t lasted long. 

And now here’s Bucky, cleaning Rhodey’s Avengers suite like that’s just something he does, and, apparently, using the time Rhodey’s napping to cook dinner for them. Again, not counting Rhodey’s family, and Tony’s occasional atrocious attempts at producing something at least vaguely edible, Rhodey can’t remember the last time someone has taken the time to prepare him a real, home-cooked meal. 

Rhodey has always prided himself on being strong-willed and independent, able to provide for himself, his family, and his friends; his entire military career is built on this foundation, wouldn’t have been possible without his dedication, and perseverance. Being on the receiving end of someone’s mother henning for a change is new, and definitely strange. But good strange. Unexpectedly nice. 

While Bucky finishes up in the kitchen, Rhodey dozes on and off, startling himself awake every couple of minutes with a cough, or a sneeze, or the insistent need to clear his dry, aching throat. He pulls the blanket—a huge, worn, but incredibly soft thing Bucky must have brought over, since he can’t remember buying it—up right under his chin, but is still shivering, teeth clattering, when Bucky returns with a tray of goodies. 

“What?” Rhodey grumbles, narrowing his eyes at the amused curl of Bucky’s mouth. “What’s funny?” 

“Nothin’,” Bucky reassures, not very effectively, through a laugh. He carefully sets the tray down on the bed beside Rhodey, then straddles Rhodey’s legs. “You’re cute when you’re grumpy, is all.”

Rhodey shoots him a nasty look. “Fuck you.” 

“Don’t think you’re up for that, pal,” Bucky teases, cackling at his own stupid joke as he leans in to peck Rhodey’s lips. Rhodey makes a startled noise, trying to move back, but Bucky moves with him, and kisses him again, deeper. “Serum. I don’t get sick no more.” 

They lose a couple of minutes to making out after that, until Rhodey has to pull away to breathe, which isn’t really possible through his stuffy nose. Bucky climbs off Rhodey to sit next to him against the headboard, handing over the medication, and a glass of blessedly cool water. The soup—cauliflower, chili, and parmesan with crispy bacon bits, Rhodey’s absolute favourite—is delicious, with just enough spices for Rhodey to actually taste it.

Bucky switches on the TV, and they eat in comfortable silence, watching the news. Rhodey drifts off at some point, half waking when Bucky moves the tray to the floor, and tucks them both in properly. 

“Buck,” he murmurs, humming when Bucky spoons up against his back. “Thanks. For the food.” 

Bucky chuckles against Rhodey’s shoulder, then kisses the side of his neck. “‘Course, babe, don’t mention it. Go back to sleep.” 

“Okay,” Rhodey sighs contentedly, and does.

 

**4**

The café is a tiny little thing at the end of a nondescript street, something easily overlooked by anyone who doesn’t know it’s there. But Bucky obviously does, tugging Rhodey along by their linked hands, clearly excited to show off his latest discovery. The guy’s a total foodie, not that Rhodey’s complaining; Bucky has impeccable, if sometimes somewhat unusual, taste. Rhodey has no idea how he came up with the idea for brie and blackberry jam sandwiches, for example, but they’re unexpectedly amazing. 

A little bell over the door jingles to announce their arrival, making the woman behind the counter glance up, and her face split into a beaming smile when she spots Bucky. “Yasha!”

“Tatijana,” Bucky greets warmly, using his free arm to embrace the women, then gestures at Rhodey, shyly biting his lip after introducing him.

They switch to Russian, and all Rhodey can make out is the occasional yes or no, and his name every now and again. He doesn’t feel left out, though, because Bucky wraps his arm around Rhodey’s waist, leaning into his side as he catches up with Tatijana. And then Taijana reaches out to pat Rhodey’s arm, and winks at Bucky, and Bucky’s face goes beet red at whatever she’s saying. 

Bucky hides his face behind his hand, shoulders shaking with silent laughter, before he points at Tatijana, who rolls her eyes good-naturedly, and shoos them towards one of the tables. She keeps chattering happily while she brings them coffee and cake, but turns serious when she sets down Rhodey’s plate, her voice stern when she says, “Не сделай ему больно.”

Rhodey waits until she’s bustled into the kitchen in the back, then arches a questioning eyebrow at Bucky. “What was that about?” 

“Forget it,” Bucky mumbles, blushing again, and ducking his head. He looks up at Rhodey from under his lashes when Rhodey nudges his foot, and takes his hand to give it a squeeze. 

“You speak too many languages,” Rhodey complains jokingly, “I can’t keep up.”

Bucky preens, a little cocky, but secretly proud, Rhodey knows. “Only seven,” he says, bringing Rhodey’s hand up to his lips, and brushing a kiss over Rhodey’s knuckles. “Not counting fictional ones.”

Rhodey takes a sip of his coffee to hide his answering grin. “Nerd.” 

That earns him a kick to the shin, but Bucky softens the blow with another quick kiss. “Shut up, and eat your cake, asshole.”

 

**5**

“They’re not that bad,” Bucky says from the bed, peering at Rhodey over the edge of his StarkPad. “And this one’s for a good cause.” 

“But the _socialites_ ,” Rhodey groans, shucking his pants to throw them into the hamper in the corner. “They’re handsy.”

Bucky snorts, eyes going back to his reading. “And you accuse Tony of bein’ a drama queen. ‘Sides, you don’t have to go by yourself. They’ll leave you alone if you’re with a date.” 

Rhodey pulls out a shirt, thinking as he tugs it on. “You’re right. Carol still owes me one, I’ll call her tomorrow. Are you going?” 

When he doesn’t get an answer, Rhodey turns away from the closet, instantly concerned at the blank expression on Bucky’s face. He quickly crosses the room, kneeling at the foot of the bed, and cautiously touching Bucky’s ankle through the covers. It hasn’t happened in a while, and never when it’s been just the two of them, but Bucky has made sure everyone close to him knows to be careful in case he falls back into Winter Soldier mode. “Hey, Buck. You with me?” 

Bucky swallows hard, and nods jerkily. “Yeah. Yeah, sorry,” he says, voice flat. “I, uh. Remembered somethin’ from—from before. ‘S fine.”

Rhodey scoots closer, plucking the tablet out of Bucky’s slack grip, then curls his hands around Bucky’s trembling fingers. “What can I do?” 

For a moment, Rhodey thinks Bucky’s going to bolt; he’s tense, twitching, and refuses to meet Rhodey’s eyes, staring intently at the door. But then he shudders, body going limp, and practically drapes himself over Rhodey. “Can you,” he starts quietly, taking a deep, unsteady breath, “can you hold me? Please?” 

“Of course,” Rhodey agrees immediately, resting his forehead against Bucky’s. “Yeah, of course.”

Bucky curls up as small as humanly possible against Rhodey’s side, and hides his face away in the crook of Rhodey’s neck, while Rhodey wraps both his arms around Bucky, holding him tightly. He strokes Bucky’s back, lips pressed against the top of Bucky’s head, until he falls asleep.

The next morning, Bucky is gone.

 

**+1**

Rhodey doesn’t see Bucky again before the evening of the charity gala rolls around, disappointed but understanding when Bucky replies to his texts saying that he needs some time to himself. He’ll wait until the morning after, he figures, and if Bucky’s still not feeling better by then, he’ll go get some of those pastries Tatijana makes that Bucky can’t get enough of, and surprise him with brunch. Bucky can never say no to mimosas, after all. 

Carol—who has graciously agreed to accompany him under the condition that he pays the next time they go out when she’s on furlough—takes one look at him when she slides into the back of the limo, and declares, “We’re going to get wasted tonight, Rhodes.” 

Tony shoots them a funny look when he spots them on their way through the ballroom, but reluctantly turns back to the group of businessmen he’s surrounded by when Rhodey shakes his head at him. 

Open bars, Rhodey decides an hour later, draining the last of his scotch, are the best. He signals for another drink, then turns back to watch Carol and Nat completely destroy everyone else on the dancefloor. Carol catches his eye, waving him over, but he mouths back, “No, thanks,” and accepts the new glass from the bartender. Carol pouts at him, but then Nat whispers something in her ear, and they both start laughing, dancing closer to Clint. 

“Got ditched, huh?” Tony asks, stopping to lean against the bar next to Rhodey. 

“No reason she can’t have fun while we’re here,” Rhodey says, shrugging. Tony purses his lips in that way Rhodey knows means he desperately wants to say something, but is holding himself back. Bumping his shoulder against Tony’s, he asks, “What’s up?”

There’s a moment of silence, then Tony blurts, “Please don’t break up with Bucky.” 

Rhodey chokes on his drink, coughing at the burn in the back of his throat. _“What?”_

“Please, please, _please_ don’t break up with Bucky. Whatever it is, you guys can fix it, come on, you can fix it. Right?” Tony rushes out, talking so fast his words nearly blur together. “You’ve been happier ever since you started going out, I can see it. Everyone can see it. You’re all relaxed, and, and sappy, I don’t know, but happier. And you deserve this. You said that when I thought I wasn’t good enough. For Steve. You said I was, and that I deserved to be happy. And so do you. And Bucky makes you happy. I don’t know what’s going on, but you can’t break up. You love him. He loves you. You’re so in love, it’s actually really disgusting, but also good, you know? I want you to be happy. And if you break up, Steve will side with Bucky, and I’ll side with you, obviously, and things will get ugly, and no one will be happy. Is that what you want, sugarpuff? Is it?” 

“Tony,” Rhodey says, when Tony finally takes a break to suck in a lungful of air. “We’re not,” he waves his hand, searching for the right word, but ending with a lame, “ _that_. We’re not.” 

Tony stares, entirely motionless, long enough for it to become awkward. Then he suddenly jumps back into action, puts both his hands on Rhodey’s cheeks, and squeezes, hard. “What. The. Fuck. Rhodey. What the fuck? Yes, you are _that!_ You are _so_ that!”

“Tony—”

“Okay, no. No,” Tony interrupts, really worked up now. Angry, even. “Okay, you know what? Just. Just cut right in if I say something that’s not true, okay? Okay. You sleep together. Regularly. Exclusively. You do all the domestic things you used to tease me and Steve about. Brunches. Dates. You flew back from the other side of the world when he got injured during a mission, and spent a week sleeping in his hospital room. Dates. No, seriously, dates, all the time. The handholding, the cuddling, the hugging, the kissing. Rhodey, you practically live together, you haven’t been in your Queens apartment in over a month! You’re—”

“Together,” Rhodey finishes breathlessly, suddenly feeling faint. And not because of the alcohol. His gaze snaps up to Tony, eyes wide, and heart beating wildly. “We’re together.”

Tony throws his hands up in the air, his patented _now you’re getting it_ move. “So, pardon me for being worried when you show up here with Carol instead of your boyfriend, after Bucky’s been moping around our penthouse for the last few days, refusing to say what the fuck is going on, but acting all sad and heartbroken.” He punches Rhodey in the shoulder, then, and none too gently, either. “What the fuck did you do, Jim?” 

Rhodey’s stomach drops. “Screwed up, that’s what I did,” he says, putting down his glass, and jumping up. “Man, I screwed up so bad.”

“No shit,” Tony snorts, but is already typing away at his phone. “Car’s going to be here in two minutes. Go. Maybe buy some flowers or something, if the way you’re growing all pale is any indication of how much trouble you’re in.” 

The drive back to the Tower seems to take forever, and Rhodey’s nearly vibrating out of his skin by the time the chauffeur pulls into the garage, he’s so nervous. Almost ten months, since that first night. It has taken Rhodey ten months to get here, to sort himself out, to realise that he’s—

That he’s in love with Bucky. That what they have isn’t casual, or simple, or maybe over the next time he comes back from overseas because Bucky’s found someone else. That it’s real, and serious, and that he wants that, needs that, with Bucky. Because he loves Bucky. And might just have ended one of the best things to ever happen to him before he’d even known he had it. 

“Come on!” Rhodey snaps, slamming his hand down on the elevator button a lot harder than necessary. Then he immediately feels guilty, apologises to JARVIS, and spends the forty-two seconds it takes the elevator to reach Tony and Steve’s penthouse reminding himself that he’s too old to start biting his nails again, no matter how terrified he is, or how stupid he feels right now. 

Bucky startles when Rhodey storms through the door, looking up with a spoon hanging halfway between his mouth, and a comically large bucket of cookie dough ice cream. “Why’re you back so early? Did somethin’ happen?” 

Rhodey keeps walking until he’s in front of the couch where Bucky’s sitting, dropping down to his knees, and shuffling in between Bucky’s legs, hands on Bucky’s thighs. “I’m an idiot, and I’m sorry.” 

“Uh,” Bucky says, confused. He puts the spoon back into the ice cream, then sets the whole thing down on the seat next to him, and puts his hands over Rhodey’s. “Okay?” 

“I hurt you,” Rhodey continues sadly, “by asking Carol to the gala. And that wasn’t the first time, was it? You’ve been so good to me, you’ve been working so hard, on this, on us, and I didn’t give you anything back. Why,” his voice breaks, “why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you say something?” 

Bucky averts his eyes at that, lower lip wobbling for a moment before he gets himself back under control. “Didn’t wanna lose you,” he admits, and the resignation in his voice is painful to hear, a stab right to Rhodey’s heart. “Thought I’d take what I can get, try not to be selfish. ‘S not your fault you don’t—don’t feel the same—”

“I love you,” Rhodey says, and then, again, softer, with every ounce of sincerity he can muster,“I love you, Bucky Barnes.” He hooks a finger under Bucky’s chin to turn Bucky’s face back, kissing the damp corners of Bucky’s fluttering eyes. “I’ve never loved anyone before, never allowed myself to, not like I love you,” he whispers against Bucky’s skin, sliding one arm around Bucky when Bucky’s fingers curl into his jacket. “And I didn’t—I didn’t know. But I do, god, I swear, I do now. _I love you._ ”

Bucky smiles, a shaky but hopeful little thing. “Say it again.”

“I love you. I love you, I—”

“Sap,” Bucky teases, but then his arms are around Rhodey’s shoulders, and Rhodey’s hugging him back, half in his lap, peppering kisses over every inch of bare skin within reach. “Love ya, too, you big fuckin’ moron. Now kiss me properly. You’ve got so much shit to make up for, you have no idea.” 

“Anything,” Rhodey promises, and presses their mouths together. 

“Asshole,” Bucky whispers, so Rhodey kisses him harder, and murmurs back an affectionate, “Nerd.”

**Author's Note:**

> The Russian (roughly) translates to, "Don't hurt him." 
> 
> Go check out my other [work](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Potrix/works), or come over and say hi on [tumblr](http://potrix-the-queerschlaeger.tumblr.com/).


End file.
